


The Ascension of the Queen and the Coming of Winter

by Airen_Thiren



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Rape, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Demonic Voldemort, Discord: HMS Harmony, Everything is Harmony and Nothing Hurts, Evil Draco, F/M, Good God of the Dead, Harmony Discord: Wacky Wednesday AU, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Longshot - Freeform, Loose inspiration from the myth of Hades and Persephone, Mortals and Gods, Pantheon of Gods, Ultimately good but asshole-ish Ron, Very loose inspiration, Wacky Wednesday AU, graphic death, lore galore, obviously, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25496722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airen_Thiren/pseuds/Airen_Thiren
Summary: After millennia of solitude, Harry, the God of the Dead and King of the Everafter, rejoins his fellow deities for one night. There he meets Hermione, the Goddess of Lore.As their love grows, so too does the storm that would forever alter the world.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 98
Collections: HMS Harmony Discord Drabbles





	The Ascension of the Queen and the Coming of Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers mine. This story was prompted from this weeks Wacky Wednesday prompt on the Harmony Discord server. The theme was the famous Hades/Persephone myth from Greek mythology. 
> 
> Be advised that I took much creative liberty with this and the resulting story shares only the faintest resemblance to the myth you all are aware of.

Of all the mortal conceptions of the afterlife that annoyed him, the one that topped them all was the name for the final resting place of souls. Underworld. As though Harry, the Judge of the Living and King of the Dead, had to always worry about dirt, debris, and refuse constantly raining down upon his home and cloak. A better name for this place would be the Afterworld, or even better, the Everafter. For that is what every soul would ultimately find, no matter how they lived: eternal punishment or eternal reward.

Not like the other gods and goddesses really helped with this presumption either. Draco, High King of Magic and Largest of all Pricks, never failed to mock and torment Harry for his choice to rule over mortals after they had died. Harry would simply thin his lips and bite back the truth, lest he incite a war amongst himself and Draco's army of sorcerers. The truth of his everlasting kingdom would invite his brother's challenge and draw the ire of those spellcaster armies to his very gates. Where Harry would remind them exactly who had slain the demon, Voldemort, hundreds of thousands of years ago.

The King of the Everafter sighed and tried to get his mind off of the fickle nature of his brothers and sisters. Rising from the bench where he sat, he walked to the banister of the balcony and braced his hands upon the railing, gazing out into the ever-golden sun and vast, dark sea. His tension left him as the salty air filled his nose and eased his frustration. Though, only for a moment.

“Sire.” Harry smiled softly at the deep voice. He turned and beheld one of his first and greatest friends: Hagrid, Lord of the Hunt.

“Hagrid, to what do I owe the pleasure?” asked the raven-haired god.

“Just lettin’ ya’ know that the party god is here. He brought more...um...well...” the large god trailed off awkwardly, trying to find the right word. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a deep and resigned sigh. “...brides.”

“Call them what they are, my friend. Call them captives.” Harry’s tone was as fierce as his green eyes, which had surged in brightness to match his fury at Ron, the jubilant God of Festivals. _Indolent God of Food, Whores, and Wine was more apt._

Hagrid merely nodded and walked away, his step booming in the empty halls of the castle. Harry followed as silently as a shadow, hands clasped behind his back and spine straight and erect. The epitome of responsibility and solemn duty, the God of the Dead found himself at the doors of his throne room and took a deep breath to try and cool his temper. The doors opened at his silent command, and he tried not to wince at some of the shrieks he heard. Looking upon the scene, his brow furrowed into a scowl at the sight of what appeared to be several scores of young, mortal women, all of them in some state of undress. Some wore fine dresses, some wore nightclothes. Some were tall, some where short. Some were grown and mature, others were simple children!

“Ah, Brother! So glad you were willing to see me!” the jovial, red-haired god cried.

 _Willing to suffer you is more like it,_ Harry thought.

“Ron, how…considerate of you to…visit.” He would be forever grateful that the party god was particularly thick when it came to social cues.

“Quite so,” said thick-headed God agreed before adding in a sing-song voice, “And I brought presents.” He waved his hand at the collection of girls and women, many of whom were nearly in tears, if not openly wailing already. Harry forced back the bile in his throat at the sight.

“These are mortals, Ron,” Harry said in a flat voice. The torches in the walls seemed to burn hotter.

“I know, mate,” the festive god replied, rolling his eyes.

“Then you should know that none of them are worthy of being Queen of the Everafter. Only a goddess is fit to rule at my side.” Harry didn’t mention that he had wasn’t even looking for a queen anyway, having given up convincing the lazy fool a long time ago. Best he could do now was damage control for his brother’s attempts at matchmaking.

“Mate, I can only do so much. Not like I can convince the goddesses the same way I convince these mortals.”

“Convince, is that what mortals are calling it these days?” Harry asked rhetorically. The fires in the room seemed to turn yellow instead of orange.

“Mate, at least try them out before you decide if they’re unworthy.” Harry tried not flinch when his fellow deity slung an arm around him. Forcing himself to calm, Harry only nodded in silence. He clenched his fist tightly behind his back, and the sconces of yellow light began to pale.

“You’ll come to the gathering, yeah? Maybe, if none of these are a good fit for you, you might finally find a queen there. Besides, we’ve added a lot more since the last time you popped up,” Ron added, clapping Harry on the shoulder. It was true, it had been millennia since Harry had deigned to visit the realm of the gods. Maybe he should make an appearance, if only to see what sort of mayhem his equals were causing among the mortals and what sort of messes he’d have to clean up.

“Maybe I will, but first I must see to them,” he replied, inclining his head toward the throng of mortals, the tallest of whom barely came up to his waist. Ron brightened at that, a wide smile spreading across his face, his red hair beginning to glow.

“Excellent, mate! Let me know if you need more samples, there are plenty where they came from. I’ll see you in a week,” the god called, already striding out the open doors toward his transport back to his realm.

As soon as the doors closed shut, Harry let his fury fly, and the fires around the room immediately shone with a furious, blue light.

“ _ **BE GLAD OF YOUR IMMORTALITY, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE OF DIVINITY. IF I COULD CONVINCE ALBUS OF ANYTHING, IT WOULD BE TO HAVE YOU DELIVERED TO ME, SO I COULD FEED YOU TO SIRIUS AND REMUS!**_ ” the god-king bellowed. A terrified shriek shattered his rage and the natural, orange light overcame the furious blue. Harry spun around and beheld one of the youngest mortals crouched into a fetal position, several of the older women gathering around her to comfort the child.

“Forgive me,” Harry sighed regretfully. He slowly approached the mortal women and, with silent commands, ordered blankets and coverings for the quivering humans. Dobby and several other elves obeyed in an instant.

“Forgive me, young one,” he pleaded again, kneeling before the huddled mass of older women. He still looked down upon them, but now he could speak eye to eye with a standing mortal. “Forgive my shouting, but you should not be here for many years yet.”

The kind, gentle tone was a stark contrast to the harsh fury of moments before, and Harry saw many of the humans visibly relax. A little head of blonde hair peeked timidly out from inside the small huddle. The teary eyes still held great fear in them, but now there was gentlest glow of curiosity. Harry smiled softly and slowly reached out his massive hand.

“My name is Harry, what is yours?” The little girl flinched back a bit, but one of the older women placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

The girl placed a trembling hand in his palm and replied in a soft, quivering voice, “L-Luna, my lord.” Harry sat on his legs and covered the small hand with his other, encasing the miniature version as though it were a precious stone.

“Luna, are any of your family still among the living?”

She gave a small nod before answering, “My…my father.” Harry gave her a gentle smile and bent down until he was almost pressing his thighs into his stomach, trying to catch the girl’s eyes.

“Do you miss him?”

Another nod.

“Do you want to go back to him?”

Nod again, this time surer, and she finally met his eyes. The fear was gone from those soft blues and had been replaced with a fragile hope.

“Then I will return you to life. To be with your father.”

Before he knew it, the god-king of the Everafter found his arms full of a joyously weeping human girl. After overcoming the shock, he softened and gently coiled a massive hand around the child, relishing in the tender moment.

“But I must ask for something in return,” he added. The small one tensed and pulled away nervously, uncertainty swimming through he tears. Harry only smiled reassuringly and gave her his terms. He said, “Try not to come back here for as many years as you can.” A chorus of relieved and sobbing laughter rung out from the women around him. They all looked on the scene of the most fearsome god comforting the small girl with grateful eyes and glad smiles. Harry stood and looked down upon the humans.

“You all were taken before your time. You shall be returned to your families and loved ones, with no memory of this trial. Live well. Live good and just lives, and you will be welcomed into the halls of your ancestors with open arms and warm hearths. The goddess of healing, Pomfrey, will see you back to your homes.” At this, Pomfrey approached the mortals, an approving smile on her face, and ushered the grateful women out of the throne room.

As soon as Harry was alone, he curled his fists tightly, and the torches in the room once more began to glow with a blue fury.

“Why can’t more gods be like you?”

Harry turned to face Minerva, Goddess of Justice, as she approached. Her silver hair was pulled into its usual, tight bun. The stern countenance of her depictions in the mortals’ halls of justice was replaced with a fond, parental look in her eyes.

“I doubt many of them would care enough for mortals to give them what they deserved.”

“Is that why you still haven’t looked for a queen?” she asked. Harry sighed and bowed his head.

“It’s not the only reason. What could I offer any goddess that she cannot find amongst the other gods?” His question was meant to be rhetorical, but he doubted Minerva cared.

“A kingdom,” she answered. Harry laughed humorlessly.

“That she would have to help run,” he rebuffed.

“Consistent prayers and offerings.”

“And the guarantee that she will be feared by all mortals for as long as they live.”

“Your loyalty. Yourself.”

“It would never be enough, Minerva,” Harry sighed. “Face it, no one wants to help mortals. That is why I chose this as my kingdom. Their souls are as eternal as we are, and to leave them alone is to invite the rise of another Voldemort. You know as well as I do that without any punishment, powerful, evil souls feed on weak ones until they become demons and pose a threat not only to us, but to all creation. What goddess wants to give up her current dominion to punish mortals for their wickedness. How many souls will she have to help me destroy before she begins to hate her existence? Do you know how many times I have mourned for the fallen wickedness of men? Do you know how many times I’ve considered wiping the Earth of men to avoid the risk of any more Voldemorts? What fair goddess would marry a tyrant like that?” Tears threatened to break from his eyes, but he drew in a shuddering breath and scrubbed them away. He marched to his throne and slouched into it, his head bowing under the weight of the thousands of evil souls that were daily tortured for their wickedness.

“You have never done those things. You are no tyrant,” Minerva replied. Harry felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up at her kind yet firm eyes. “In all these years, the Everafter has never given us problems. You have ruled rightly and have held mastery of your dominion like no other. Neither I nor Albus have ever been concerned about what you might do when you are angry. We have trusted you for millennia, but we have seen what this duty is doing to you.

You, of all the gods, need a partner to help you. Someone who you can rely on to be by your side for all eternity. And do not doubt your worth. Many goddesses would gladly be your queen.” At this Harry turned away from her gaze. “Alright, some would.” Harry kept gazing into the empty room of pillars and vaulted ceilings. Minerva sighed and left, hoping her words had some effect.

Harry bowed his head. Raking his fingers through his messy hair, he mulled over the words of the Goddess of Justice. He had been isolated in the Everafter almost since his defeat of Voldemort. He had barely even seen how the mortal world was formed and how it was run before he claimed dominion of the realm of the dead. While the others had fostered mischief and mayhem in the mortal world, Harry had built a stable kingdom rooted in eternity. While Albus and Minerva had kept the other gods and goddesses in check and reigned them in when their mayhem grew too much, Harry had been doling out just punishments and rewards to mortals who died to that same mayhem. Maybe some help would be good for him, and didn’t Ron say that there were new goddesses among them now?

* * *

Hermione sighed tiredly as her time finally came. Six months of radiating power, fostering growth, and tending to all that was green and growing left her with sagged shoulders. It was Ginny’s turn now, and Hermione could finally rest and look away from the world of mortals. She could finally look away from all the evil men going unpunished, from all the suffering innocents, and from all the mischief her fellow deities pulled. She was glad for this gathering, as maybe she could get Albus or Minerva to do something about the other gods and goddesses. Or maybe she could get them to do something about the mortals themselves. She had endured several millennia of silence, maybe now it was time her voice was heard.

And maybe she could finally relax for once and meet the other gods that weren’t Ron or Draco. There was even a dim hope that maybe she could find a husband, but it grew dimmer with every year. Every advance by Ron or Draco pushed her further away from the idea of marriage altogether. Every uncouth joke by Ron, or lascivious message from Draco pushed a niggling idea in her mind that these were the only kind of gods she would find. This gathering was her last chance to find an escape from their advances.

Retreating to a small oasis she had carved for herself in the cosmos, Hermione sighed as the smell of vanilla, parchment, and old leather filled her nose. With a deep inhale, she felt even more of the six months of strained power leave her. It grew more difficult to maintain every year, and Hermione grew increasingly more worried about losing her divinity. She had begun her tenure as a pseudo-nature goddess when the first winter had all but crippled Ginny. Hermione had attained enough knowledge about plants and nature to facilitate something akin to Ginny’s natural aura. She hated to see the mortals suffering and had vowed to hold back winter while her friend recovered. This led to an arrangement between the two. Ginny would retreat to await the return of her powers and Hermione would fill in the void she left.

Now that Ginny once more held dominion over the forces of nature, Hermione could once more lose herself in her books on magic, philosophy, lore, history, and science. She might even have time to delve into the works of art the mortals had written and left behind. Oh, how she loved some of the plays and poems these creatures could create. She only wished that she could find more of those works. Perusing a shelf, Hermione found a thick book that was a recent compilation of all the myths and legends related to the pantheon she was a part of. She had just settled into her chair to read when her sanctuary was invaded by a shrill cry of her name.

“Hermione, darling!” Lavender, the Goddess of Love, cried. Rolling her eyes, the Goddess of Lore, set aside her book and stood to greet her exuberant friend. It had never failed to amaze her how the two of them were even friends. Lavender was so joyous, extroverted, and squealy, and Hermione was quiet, poised, and not squealy. And yet, somehow, they were the closest of friends.

“So good to see you, Lavender.” Hermione laughed as the romantic goddess vibrated in place. Hermione let moment hang for a bit before both deities launched at each other with as much force as they could muster. After a brief, but fierce hug, the two goddesses pulled apart, and Lavender immediately started talking.

“Did you hear about the gathering? Oh, I’m so excited. There will be more gods and goddesses there than there have ever been in one place. I mean, I know a lot of the gods and goddesses, but then again, I get so busy with making mortal romances I rarely have time to chat with any of them. I wonder if Albus and Minerva are planning something big, like this is all a set up for something. Or maybe we’ll be welcoming new members to the pantheon. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be a big deal. Hagrid will be hosting a grand hunt, Ron will throw a banquet, Draco will show off some more of those fascinating spells, and there will be singing and dancing and so much fun to be had. There’s even rumor that the King of the Everafter will be joining. No one’s seen him since…”

“Lavender!” Hermione laughed at the amount of words her friend had spoken without stopping. “Slow down, dear. I can barely keep up.”

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to see all my friends again.”

“I can tell,” Hermione giggled. Lavender giggled as well, and the two devolved into peals of merry laughter.

“Oh, you will be coming, won’t you?” the Goddess of Love begged. Hermione smiled and nodded.

“It will be nice to see more of my fellow deities. And to maybe get a break from Ron and Draco.”

Lavender pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

“Are they still giving you trouble? I’ve asked them to lay off you, but they just won’t listen. My husband offered to set you up with some form of repellant, but I told him you’d rather take care of it yourself. That is what you still want, right?” Lavender asked, concern etched into her features. Hermione was touched by the thought.

“You’re right, Lavender, this is something I need to do for myself, but do give Neville my thanks for his offer,” the Lore Goddess replied, hugging her friend. “Besides, with so many other gods around…” Hermione trailed off, knowing her friend would pick up the clue.

“You can maybe, finally, find a husband!” Lavender cried gleefully. “Oh, we have to get you all prettied up if you’re trying to catch some eyes at the gathering.” Before Hermione could react, her friend was dragging her through the cosmos to her own realm of anything and everything designed to enhance beauty. For being a Goddess of Lore and Knowledge, Hermione should have known better…

* * *

Mount Diagon had never seen so many deities on its summit, not even when the gods had made their final stand against the Soul-Eater. Chariots and mounts ringed the peak where the Halls of Hogwarts towered, the stone walls and towers ever shining with divine, golden radiance. Fleur had unfurled her finest works of constellations and hung them all around the skies of the grand dwelling. Bill and his goblins had labored beneath the Earth and wrought the finest materials into gifts for all the Gods in attendance, each one unique to the one they would be given to. The mischievous Fred and George had scoured the world for the best stories to tell that would elicit the most laughter. 

The party was in full swing when a simple carriage drawn by winged, skeletal horses alighted onto the pathway leading up the main complex. Harry emerged from his transport, dressed in a fine, long coat adorned with bluish-silver patterns of fire, dark leather boots, and a red cloth tied around his waist. His green eyes gazed in wonder upon the palace of Albus and Minerva. His eyes immediately snapped to Hagrid’s towering form as he lumbered toward him.

“Glad you decided to come, Sire,” the giant god said, making to bow before Harry stayed him.

“Hagrid, please, for once, can we just be friends?” Harry asked teasingly. Hagrid let out a booming laugh before sweeping the god-king up into a full hug, easily lifting him from the ground. Harry laughed at the antics of his friend and squirmed a bit in the embrace before wrapping his own arms around the Lord of the Hunt, or tried to. Setting Harry down, Hagrid pulled back and stepped aside, as his liege ascended the steps of Hogwarts.

Even from outside the gateway, Harry could hear cheers, conversations, and laughter from so many different voices. Opening the gates, the God of the Dead could see the forms of so many of the gods and goddesses he knew, as well as some he did not. His pause to take in the sight, along with the creak of the heavy, wooden gate, caused some eyes to look in his direction. At the rare appearance of the God of the Dead, the conversations near him stopped, causing more to look his way, and leading to more silence. Soon, the whole garden was filled only with the noises of the water lapping in its pools. Harry swallowed at the attention but composed himself and entered the gardens like he belonged. He was a god after all.

Hermione had almost paid the opening gate little attention, rapt in the tales being told to her by Fred and George. Mischievous gods though they were, they were also storytellers of the highest caliber. When the wave of silence spread to them however, even Hermione’s attention was drawn. There in the gateway was a god she had never seen before. His cloth wasn’t brightly colored and did not bear any extravagant patterns like anyone else’s, yet he still looked divine and seemed to glow with his own radiance. His bearing and poise were firmer and stiffer than many of the gods around him. His face was a display of wonder, yet beneath it, there was an ancient weight to it that Hermione knew few gods to bear.

“My, my, the King of the Everafter coming from his eternal throne. This is an occasion and no mistake, Fred,” George said to his twin, neither averting their gazes from the dark god.

“An occasion indeed, my brother. Doubtless, he’ll have more than a few stories we’ve yet to hear,” Fred replied, his eyes seeming to glow with possibility. Hermione looked back to them in confusion. Meeting her gaze, the twins’ eyes widened in realization.

“Tell me not that the Goddess of Lore has never heard of Harry, the Judge of Life and King of the Dead. Say it isn’t so,” Fred asked.

“Perhaps it is not so impossible to be, oh brother mine,” George chimed in. “The guy hasn’t set foot outside of the Everafter since the Soul-Eater was slain, and he claimed dominion of the afterlife.”

“Oh, of course, George. How silly of me? And we all know that mortals don’t like to think about what happens after, being, well, mortal,” Fred supplied. The two broke out into laughter at the joke.

Hermione rolled her eyes as stepped away, intending to speak to this god who was not far from her age, and who apparently had firsthand knowledge of the destruction of the Soul-Eater, something she had yet to get an full account of. Even Albus and Minerva admitted to gaps in their knowledge, but they had never mentioned this god’s name before regarding his involvement.

As she drew near to him, she saw Albus and Minerva approach as well. The Head God conversed amiably with this new figure, and Hermione just caught the tail end of their conversation when she arrived within earshot.

“…know it’s not in your power, but do try to make him see that he should leave the matchmaking to Lavender,” the messy-haired god sighed. Albus nodded sagely before he caught sight of Hermione approaching.

“Ah, Hermione, my dear.”

The strange god turned, and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes glowed with the green of sunlight through a canopy of leaves. Up close, his face was quite handsome and youthful, as the faces of all gods were, yet behind the beauty was something deeper. Not darker, nor lighter. Not grimmer, nor brighter. But deeper, and hidden. Hidden, but open to be found if given permission to search. A scar on his forehead caught her attention as well, as no other god, save for Godric and Salazar, the twin war gods, had any such blemish. What could have marred the perfect skin of a god and left a mark?

“I don’t believe you and Harry have met before, have you?” the Head God of Wisdom asked, eyes ever-twinkling with said wisdom. Hermione was started out of her observation, for she certainly wasn’t staring, of Harry and made to introduce herself.

“Hermione, Goddess of Lore,” she said, trying to keep herself from stammering. Harry seemed to take no notice of any nervousness she might have projected, for which she was grateful.

“A pleasure, Hermione. I am Harry, God of the Dead.” His voice was warm and gentle, and Hermione found herself wanting to hear more of it.

“A pleasure, Harry,” she replied, smiling.

“Forgive me for saying so, but I do not recall seeing you before I claimed dominion over the Everafter. When did you manifest?” Harry asked.

“Oh, I suppose shortly before or after the Soul-Eater was slain. Mortals started recording their history and knowledge during the calamities wrought by Voldemort. Some of them began to pray for the survival of these records, and I manifested to receive their prayers.”

“Ah, so you’re practically as old as I, with only a few centuries difference, at the most. I took over the afterlife almost as soon as Voldemort was slain, so we might never have met,” Harry surmised. She smiled and nodded at his inference.

“Well, now we have,” she replied. “Perhaps you and I could meet and discuss your realm. I have so little information on it, and I long to understand all I can.”

“As is your nature,” Harry said bemused. “You are, of course, welcome to my halls whenever you like.” She smiled at that, and the conversation flowed amongst the four gods as easily as the ambrosia. Harry was the quietest of the little group, choosing to listen and observe over offering his own input but giving when it was asked of him.

His eyes found themselves continually drawn back to the Goddess of Lore. She was beautiful like no other goddess he knew. Her hair was thick and wavy, falling like a waterfall of chocolate over her shoulders. Her brown eyes had a subtle, golden glow about them that reminded Harry of candlelight. Her skin looked so soft and smooth to the touch, and there was a gentleness to her that made him almost afraid to find out. As though a mere brush of his fingers would mar her perfection.

Yet beneath that tender beauty, there was something else. Something Harry was far more familiar with.

“Hermione, love. Glad you could come and support me, darling,” bellowed a familiar, redheaded god, as he slung an arm around her shoulders. Her reaction was immediate, yet subdued. Her face pulled into a tense scowl, and her eyes looked to the arm around her as though it were defiling her.

“That is not why I came here, Ron. How many times must I say that we are nothing?” she asked with venom, brushing the arm away from her figure in revulsion. Seeming to ignore her remark, Ron’s eyes fell upon Harry and immediately brightened.

“Harry! Glad you came, mate!” Ron said. “I see you’ve met the love of my eternity, Hermione.”

“I have met Hermione, yes. Though it seems she does not appreciate your endearments,” Harry replied evenly, sending his fellow god a disbelieving look.

“Ah, she’s merely playing. Ain’t that right, love?”

Harry visibly flinched at the look in her eyes, which had suddenly brightened to the ferocity of sunlight.

“The only thing I’m playing at, Ronald,” she began, spitting his name as though it were a sour wine, “is at a continued civility with such an ignorant fool as yourself. I doubt my words will have effect on you, but they must always be said: WE. ARE. NOTHING.” The force behind her words gave even the deluded god pause. But only a pause.

“Of course,” Ron replied, his tone betraying his continued ignorance. He turned to Harry and asked, “Speaking of love, did any of my gifts suit your tastes, Harry?”

At the question, Harry felt his own ire spike. It took everything in him not to start a storm of fire and lightning right there in the home of the head gods. He knew his eyes would be starting to shine with an eerie, iridescent green, but that could not be helped.

“If by gifts, you mean the mortal women you took before their time, then I should inform you that I have returned them to their families.” Ron wilted, though not in shame.

“Ah well, it was worth a try. At least no lasting damage was done,” the party-loving god concluded. Harry thinned his lips and bit back a retort. It wouldn’t do any good trying to lecture the oaf. He’d forget the lesson at the next celebration the mortals invoked his name, and he had drunk his weight in wine.

“I cannot believe you, Ronald!” Hermione exploded to his right. “We are responsible for the mortals, they are not our possessions!”

“What’s the harm? We have divine right to do as we wish. We are more than them,” Ron replied, rolling his eyes.

“Argh!” Hermione turned and stormed away. Harry had half a mind to follow her, but Ron still wasn’t finished speaking to Harry.

“Bloody mental, she is. Anyway, have any of you seen Draco around? We need his help setting up for his showcase.”

“I’ll find him,” Harry volunteered immediately, wanting to be as far away from Ron as possible. Without waiting for any acknowledgement, the god-king turned and walked away, his coat billowing out behind him. This gathering was proving to be more trying that he thought. Though Hermione promised to be a goddess worth keeping contact with if her ferocity at Ron’s disregard for mortals was anything to go by. It only served to further endear her to Harry.

Harry was awfully familiar with righteous fury.

* * *

Hermione sighed and leaned her head back against the stone wall behind her bench. The expansive halls of Hogwarts offered no shortage of private places to recover her composure. It almost shamed her at how little tolerance she had for the actions of the God of Revelry. How he had manifested with such immaturity, she would never know. Though, it seemed that she was not alone in her blatant dislike of the childish deity.

She had seen Harry’s eyes when Ron mentioned his gift of mortal women. They had changed from that lovely green to a hue that she had never seen in the mortal world. His posture had tensed, and she sensed a change in the air around her. It looked as though he had been trying to hold himself back. Hermione found this apparent restraint admirable. With how much power the gods and goddesses wielded, any exchange of blows threatened to wreak havoc on the elements of the world that fell under their control. The more temperamental gods were always causing storms, earthquakes, and floods on the mortals when their egos were damaged.

Maybe he could help her in choosing her battles with the thick-headed git. If nothing else, at least she was sure she had found someone to vent all her frustrations about unwanted suitors to.

Almost as though sensing her thoughts, Hermione felt the air begin to crackle with charged magic. Her blood ran cold at the voice that slid from the one god, aside from Ron, she did not want to see.

“A lady such as yourself should never be alone with her thoughts.”

She jumped from the bench and whirled around to find none other than Draco standing before her. His pale eyes were roving her figure unabashedly, and Hermione suppressed the disgusted shudder that wanted to tremor through her.

“My thoughts are far better company than your words,” she snapped. That drew Draco’s eyes to hers and away from her figure. They still held that foggy lust in them, but there was the faintest, steely anger in them now. It had flashed for a moment before withdrawing.

“Then perhaps my embrace might prove more amicable than my words,” he replied, approaching her before she could react. Hermione backed away in time with his steps but soon found herself pressing against the wall. Before Draco could trap her within his arms, Hermione ducked and spun around behind him.

“Stop playing hard to get, Hermione. You must know that I will find a way to make you mine. It would be far better for both of us if you would just let it happen,” he said, tongue moving fluidly between the words.

“You might lay claim to me, but how long before you lay claim to others? Are you not the one responsible for most demigods? Why should I join this long list of conquests when that is all I would be?” she spat.

“Oh, but you would be far more. Your knowledge would strengthen me, and my magic would empower you. We would be able to challenge anyone we wanted. I would make you my queen,” he said, a confident smirk on his face.

“I’m sure you said the same thing to Daphne,” Hermione hissed, the memory of the girl’s fate still fresh in her mind. No mortal girl deserved to be sacrificed in such a brutal fashion.

“Daphne was a mortal,” Draco sighed. “No mortal would be able to become my Queen of Magic. I thought you would know this, oh Goddess of Lore.”

“There is much I know, Magic-Maker. And all that I know tells me to never willingly associate with the likes of you or your parlor tricks.”

“Parlor tricks, are they?” Draco sneered, and in a moment, his had had grasped a small thin stick. Hermione was about to let her power fly free when the air around them grew heavy and hot.

“Excuse me.”

From behind Draco came the God of the Dead, his dark cloth seeming to enhance the shadows around him. Draco spun around in fright, swiftly stowing his signature possession.

“Draco,” Harry began, his voice even and calm, “Albus and Minerva sent me to find you. Your showcase is set to begin soon, is it not? They seem to be under the impression you need to prepare.”

Hermione could hear the smirk in Draco’s voice as he said, “Of course. We’ll continue our discussion later, Hermione.” He began walking away almost as soon as the words left his throat. Harry stepped aside to let him pass, and once he was gone, turned his eyes to her.

“I had it handled,” she said, bristling at the concerned look in those admittedly handsome emerald-greens.

“Clearly,” he replied, then adding, “But permit me doing what I think is right.” His soft tone caught her off guard, and she felt the slightest bit of shame for brushing his concern away so callously.

“Sorry. Um…thank you. You know, for helping me get rid of him,” she added contritely. Harry simply bowed his head.

“I relish every chance I get to snub the High King of Pricks,” Harry remarked. Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise before a laugh emanated from behind her lips.

“I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Goddess of Lore? Shouldn’t be problem for you,” came his chuckled reply. As their laughter faded away, Harry’s tone grew more serious as he observed, “This isn’t the first encounter you’ve had with him.”

“As much as I wish it were untrue,” Hermione sighed.

"I wish that I could help." She felt a warm hand set itself on her shoulder. "Truly, I do."

She shook her head, an appreciative smile making her seem even more beautiful somehow. “Thank you, Harry, but Draco has been so prolific in his frolicking with mortals, that I have an extensive record of his tricks and schemes. I'm not too concerned about him. Honestly, few others know of my struggles. I’m not only the Goddess of Lore, you see.”

“Oh, what are your other domains?”

“Not really a domain so much as a purpose. Do you remember the Winter?” she asked, figuring the amount of mortal lives lost would have been noticed in the place where mortal souls go after death. Harry nodded, eyes shining in realization.

“The winds and bitter cold incapacitate Ginny’s power for several months every year. I’ve learned enough about the workings of nature to fill in for her every time the cold comes. Most gods don’t even know this. You know how proud Ginny is,” Hermione trailed off. She could hardly explain it, but she felt as though Harry was a god of many secrets. One more wouldn’t be any major burden for him.

“And what does Ginny do for you in return?” he probed.

“Nothing.” The Lore Keeper shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt I’d even accept any gift she offered me. We gods are responsible for the care of mortals, after all.”

“Still,” he began, concern once more in his words, “I cannot imagine the task is easy for you. So much power expended over such a prolonged time. It must get tiring after a point. And what of your library?” he inquired, removing his warm hand from her shoulder and cupping his chin in thought. She tried not to mourn the loss of the comforting touch.

Hermione gaped at the dark-haired god before her. No one, save Lavender and Neville, had ever asked about her library and been genuine in their concern before. She felt her cheeks flush in appreciation at the sentiment that another god seemed to care for her well-being.

“I manage well enough. Though the work does get backed up in the months I am gone, there is a certain appeal to the endless cataloging.”

“Does no one help you?”

“Some have tried, but my system is very…thorough,” she said, slightly abashed. “Lavender tries, but she just gets lost in the romantic poems and stories more often than not. Neville manages slightly better, but he is a bit clumsy and leaves a bit of a mess. It’s honestly better that I slug through the backlog, I think.”

The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think.

“Perhaps I could try.”

Hermione’s eyes widened to the size of plates, and Harry briefly wondered if he had not overstepped his place.

“You would offer you assistance?” she asked. Harry, too afraid to say anything that might change her mind, simply nodded his head. “But what about your own realm?”

“The Everafter can manage itself for a few hours every day. Mortals don't die every minute, and most do not need special considerations,” he explained.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother to you. The work can be incredibly boring and…”

“Hermione,” Harry cut her off. “I pass judgement on mortal souls every day. Some light reading and cataloging would be a vacation for me.”

Hermione had to look away from those glowing green eyes, before she did something impulsive. Like hug the God of the Dead.

“I don’t know, Harry.”

“At least think on it,” he advised. “Shall we rejoin the others?” he asked, sticking out the crook of his arm. Hermione smiled and nodded, taking the offered elbow in her hands.

“So long as you help me avoid Ron and Draco for the rest of the night,” she added. Harry let out a deep chuckle.

“That, I think I can manage.”

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a bad night after all

* * *

The Winds of Winter had been particularly persistent today. Hermione had to will as much power as she could just to keep them from being felt by the mortals. Grinding her teeth, she drew as much of her inner strength as she could. 

_Focus. The properties of the Atlas seed for strength potions. The effects of excessive consumption of elderberry wine. The growth process of the Apollo spice plant. The vibrating of my locket…_

Hermione’s eyes flew open and looked down at the locket she wore. Sure enough, it was trembling ever so slightly. Pressing her finger to it, a hazy image of her friend materialized before solidifying into his strong form.

“I can hear them howling even in the Everafter.” His voice was just the balm she needed. “Seriously, is everything alright?”

“It’s nothing I can’t manage,” she said, trying to hide the strain in her shoulders and voice. His furrowed brow conveyed his disbelief. “How’s that war going?” she asked, trying to change the subject. Harry scoffed.

“Godric and Salazar keep trying to end it when their team starts gaining ground, only to change their minds and try to draw it out when their side begins to lose. You would think that a couple of war gods would both be on the same page when it comes to such things.” Hermione laughed and felt the burden of her task grow easier. The winds were finally beginning to die down.

“That’s like asking me to admit to having sexual tension with Ron. Godric and Salazar never pass up an opportunity to continue their rivalry,” she chuckled, remembering the first time the two butted heads. Quite literally. Harry laughed along with her.

“Speaking of the life of the party, thank you for putting in a word with Lavender. This has been the longest I’ve gone without having to deal with more of his ‘presents’”

“It was my pleasure, Harry. I only wish I could have seen her tell him off,” she sighed wistfully.

“It was quite the sight. I’ll tell you all about it from my perspective once the winter passes.”

Hermione hummed in response, easing her expense of power as the winds continued to die down.

“You know, my offer still stands,” Harry said, the green glow of his eyes softening.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you. What with the war going on, you’re needed in the Everafter.”

“And I told you that I’m not needed all day, or even every day. I need the vacation too, you know,” he joked.

“And here I thought you were offering out of the kindness of your heart,” Hermione bemoaned, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“That is exactly what I’m doing. The rest is just and added benefit and…hang on, looks like a battle just started,” Harry sighed, looking to his right. Hermione knew the Brazier of Battle had rekindled.

“Thank you for calling, Harry. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. Now, get back to work.”

“You’re always welcome, Hermione. Take a break, for now.” Harry touched his hand to his sternum and his image melted away.

Hermione slumped tiredly, only two more months to go.

* * *

_Hermione,_

_I know you said you wouldn't want to trouble me, so I thought I'd show you how little a trouble it is. Please don't be too cross with me._

_Your system is very thorough indeed. Everything had a place, and I had no issue working it out. The first day took longer than I anticipated, as I only started a month into the winter. Once I caught up, however, I only needed to drop by for a couple hours at most to update the inventory. So, you see, it really is no trouble._

_At least come by and let me know how mad you are in person. Now, that I think about it, perhaps I do deserve a good chewing out for going behind your back._

_Hopefully still your friend,_

_Harry_

* * *

Harry had just been observing the Necropolis from the tallest balcony in his palace when the elf found him.

"Master, the goddess, Hermione, wishes to speak to you in your study." _Well, that didn't take long._

"Thank you, Dobby. I'll go there now. And...maybe let Minerva know that I might need her to come in for a day or two." The elf bowed, and Harry followed him off the balcony. The tall god and short elf walked in silence for a stretch of corridor before Dobby turned a corner and continued on to the portal chamber, where he would hop through to Minerva's Justice Conclave and let her know that the God of the Dead may or may not be temporarily indisposed.

Harry arrived to the closed doors of his study. It was funny, in a way. Here he was, the God of the Dead and Slayer of Voldemort. Fearless in the face of the extinction of all creation, and yet the thought of losing his friendship with the Goddess of Lore had him shaking like a leaf. In the short time since he had met her, Harry had immediately felt a hundred times lighter. The mere thought of her smile brought the same expression to him. They had shared so many deep conversations and light banter in the course of a year, that he felt as though he had known her since she manifested. He didn't need Lavender to tell him his true feelings, but right now, he only hoped he could repair the damage he had caused to their friendship.

The door gave a wooden groan as he opened it. There standing before the burning hearth, was the tawny haired Goddess of Lore. She was wearing a simple, grey dress that covered her arms to the last chills of winter. The fire danced across her golden clavicle and throat. Her brown eyes glimmered with their own golden light as they snapped to where he stood. He took in the moment, savoring her beauty before it was lost to him for centuries at least.

"Um...hi," he started. "Listen, I know you told me...OOMPH!"

Before he could even start a proper apology, the God-King of the Dead found his arms full of Lore Goddess. Her warmth permeated his skin and bones, and her hair tickled his cheek. His nose filled with the scent of vanilla, old books, and worn leather. His ears were filled to bursting with the words he least expected but but most hoped for.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou..." she babbled into his ear. Recovering from his shock, Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and pulled her closer, relishing in the embrace. When she finally trailed off her gratitude, the goddess pulled away from the tight hug and kissed his cheek. Harry felt his cheeks heat and his heart start beating faster than it had in centuries.

"Thank you so much, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. 

"You're...uh..." Harry trailed off, still happily dazed from the unexpected token of affection. The King of the Everafter had been reduced to a half-mute fool by a simple kiss on the cheek. Mentally shaking himself awake, Harry regained his ability of speech. "You're very welcome, Hermione. I take it I did a good job."

"You did it almost as good as I. I was worried I would have to reorganize everything, but there was only a dozen books out of place. You organized several hundred successfully. You wonderful, wonderful god." Hermione launched herself at him once again and all but crushed him to her. 

"Thank you, Hermione. And for what it's worth, I am sorry about going behind your back. I just thought..."

"It doesn't matter, Harry. I barely get everything organized before I have to cover for Ginny, but now I can finally have some time for myself. I can finally read the stories I love the most. This is the greatest thing anyone has done for me. Thank you." 

Harry didn't think he would ever get tired of hearing her say that.

* * *

"So, how's Harry?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. The tone her friend just used held more meaning behind it that most of the love poems she was fond of reading. It had been this way almost since they had first met at The Gathering. Every time the Goddesses met for past few decades, Lavender would open with that same question, lacing it with that same tone and meaning. Hermione sighed and prepared herself for another round of unsolicited advice from the Goddess of Love.

“He’s fine, Lavender. Same as always,” she replied, trying to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks. “He rules the most stable realm in the cosmos, if anyone would have a consistent existence, it would be him. I don’t know why you keep asking me that.”

Lavender giggled at the last comment, and Hermione knew she was in for even more teasing.

“Come now, Hermione. I just want to make you happy. And thinking about your new beau seems to make you very happy indeed,” she tittered. Hermione tried to scowl at her friend, but her infectious joy was making that difficult.

“He’s not my beau, Lav. We’re just good friends.”

“Oh, Hermione, you seem to forget that, as the Goddess of Love, I know well and truly when there’s more than friendship between two beings. Not even deities are out of my sight. I just don’t have the same sway over you as I do mortals.”

“I never forget your domain. I just don’t understand why my love life is of any interest to you.”

“Are we not friends?” Lavender scoffed humorously. “Hermione, I care about you being happy. And this arrangement between you and Ginny has been wearing you down for ages. I still don’t know why you do it.”

“Lav, I’ve told you. Ginny doesn’t like appearing weak. She doesn’t like it when nature suffers. She’s my friend just as you are, and friends help each other.”

“You’re right, of course,” the blonde Goddess sighed. “But Ginny hardly does anything for you, while you help her maintain her image. Those mortals should be praying to you half the year, but you still let them pray to Ginny. I won’t pretend to guess her motives, but it seems like you’re just being used.”

Hermione sighed at her friend’s analysis. Yes, she had been feeling like she was being used by Ginny. But every time she thought about not maintaining the growth of nature, a sense of guilt welled up in her. She had always disapproved of some of the behavior of her fellow gods. The way they treated mortals as playthings for their entertainment or tools to glorify themselves. She had vowed to never treat mortals as anything but living, breathing creatures.

“You know I have no need for prayers, Lav. Whether Ginny’s using me or not shouldn’t matter. I can help the mortals in this way, so I should,” she concluded, secretly proud of her logic.

“I’m just worried is all. The winter is always coming, and we know that mortals can survive it, though not without hardship. And you are never well after it breaks. Please, just promise me that you won’t push yourself too hard, Hermione,” Lavender pleaded, taking her gently by the shoulders. Hermione sighed in defeat.

“Alright. I promise.”

* * *

_"I'm tired of this. Just give up your search."_

_"No, I'm close to finding her realm. I can feel it."_

_"I will not let you continue your spell any longer. I hate everything about this."_

_"As though you could stop it. Remember that I wove this spell into the very core of the mortal plane. It obeys my command, and I will that it continue to fulfill its purpose until my search is complete."  
_

_"You're only making it stronger each time. Any more and you risk the destruction of all creation. I should never have hidden this."_

_"Come clean if you must, but I will never remove my greatest masterpiece."_

* * *

Harry was in his study, bearing witness to the lives of mortals. The Book of Eternity, a thick tome that recorded all souls and their place in the Everafter, sat open unto a page of scrolling lines of names and location. His quill in hand, the God of the Dead would occasionally tap a name with the tip, and immediately, the page would fill with color and illustrations that depicted the life of the mortal bearing that name. As the list of mortals dragged on, Harry let his mind wander once again to Hermione. It was winter once again, and she would no doubt be holding back the winds at the northern edge of the mortal plane.

Oh, how he wished he could convince her to take it easy. It pained him to see her suffer like that.

Refocusing on the list of names that flowed on and off the page, the god-king spotted a name he recognized.

Luna…Luna Lovegood

Tapping the tip of the quill to her name. Harry watched as the page was filled with numerous pictures and illustrations cataloging her life. He saw the loss of her mother to a fiery explosion. He saw the grief she shared with her father. He watched on as they leaned on one another through the dark times and marveled at how she continued with her positive outlook on life. A gentle smile graced his lips as he saw her wedding to a strong, noble young man and the family they built. Arriving to the present, represented by a small dot, he pressed the quill to mark and watched as the page filled with color.

She, her husband, and their daughter were trekking through the expansive woods behind their home. They were searching for a creature of legend that was said to live in the area and were trying to find out more about it. The family of man, woman, and child arrived at a rise in the woods and peered through an opening in the trees to gaze out onto the countryside below. The family paused to bask in the beauty before them, and Harry smiled at the scene.

But something began to change.

Dark clouds grew and billowed on the horizon. That would not be of much note, but there was something about them that felt wrong. They moved and formed too quickly to be natural. Something hurried them along. Soon, the gathering storm had blotted out the sun, casting the world into a deep grey as winds began to blow. The trees around the family began to creak and groan at the howling vengeance.

Luna and her family began to shiver violently. Harry felt a mightier chill grip his heart. As the family hurried back to their home, cold rain began to strike their skin. Their home in sight, the family sprinted into its walls as the patter of rain slowly morphed.

Plink! Plink! Plink!

Pale and numerous, the hail bounced off the roof of their home. The ominous sound grew deafening as the pellets of ice gathered in number, and Luna’s daughter trembled in her mother’s arms at the storm. Shingles cracked as the onslaught increased. Nearby, a tree heaved a mighty groan as it crashed to the earth from the forceful gale propelling the icy shards.

 _ **PLINK!**_ _PLINK!_ PLINK! Plink! plink! plink…

The hailing ice slowed its eerie percussion to a silence, but the wind continued its shrill, rageful howling. Luna watched in fear as her husband slowly cracked open the shutters, his breath visible to her even in the dark of the home. As pale, dim light filled the room, a cold dread gripped her and her family.

Soft, gentle specks of white flew by the open window, a few spiraling into the portal before gently drifting onto the hardwood floor, where they stilled. And remained.

Her husband looked on in horror as the forest and countryside drowned in the fine powder. The wind continued a shrill whistle as the falling specks began to distort the scene before his eyes. First, the distant mountains grew indistinguishable from the grey sky. Then, the rolling hills and open plains paled and melded together to a vast white mass of land. The forest seemed to lose its furthest trees and collapsed in on the little place of masonry and timber. Before her husband quickly shut the open window to get a fire going, he saw the trees nearest to their home fade behind the filter of grey and drifting white before vanishing and plunging their whole world into a pale void.

The page continued to show this white nothing to an empty room. It’s sole occupant long since gone to the northern edge of the mortal plane. Hermione was in trouble, and the King of the Dead was coming to save her.

* * *

The clamor in the Halls of Hogwarts was like none ever before heard in that sacred place. Minerva watched with growing unease as the gatherings of gods and goddesses posited and debunked theory after theory. The sudden blizzard that had rocked the mortal world was unprecedented, and the mortals below Mount Diagon wailed their prayers to any god that would hear. Minerva felt her followers plead for mercy, for justice, and everything in between. She only wished she could give them the peace that had long since left the realms of gods and men. 

Molly wept for the mewling babes freezing in their cribs. Fertility could do nothing against hypothermic shock. Lavender trembled in Neville's arms, all thoughts of love and courage blown away by the freezing winds. Alastor was a disturbing calm, all his famous rage beginning to freeze like his foaming seas. Amid all the silent shock, more loud voices clamored to ask why now, where the Goddess of Warmth and Nature was, what had ended the last winter, where was the Lore Keeper, what of...

"Silence!" Albus bellowed above the cacophony. The din died in the space of a breath. All eyes snapped to the Wisest of the Gods, waiting for his words and commands.

“There is much to do, and little time to do it. Fleur.” At this, the Goddess of the Stars stood ready. “Search the cosmos and find Ginny. Once you do, tell Hedwig where to go. She will bring her.” The Messenger of the Gods, a large white owl, flit from her perch to land on Fleurs outstretched arm.

“We will do as you bid,” the owl spoke in her deep, soft voice, and the pair quickly left the halls. The doors had barely closed before the Head God continued his counsel.

“Arthur, take your wife and see to the families. Put fires in their hearths as soon as you can.” The God of the Hearth and the Goddess of Fertility nodded and stood to leave.

“Charlie, set your dragons upon the skies. They can survive the cold winds. Find as many hermits and outcasts as you can. Should any try to kill your dragons, leave them.” Charlie was satisfied at the stipulation and rushed out to his mount.

“All gods of forces of nature, do what you can to stem the blizzard. Until we find Ginny, we must do the best that we…”

“You have found her!”

Ginny stormed into the room, thick thorny vines weaving animatedly through her hair, which had begun to shimmer the air around it with heat. Her normally green garb had browned and stiffened, looking more like thick plate armor than a dress. Her blue-lit eyes were tinged with furious red, and Minerva could make out the faintest of tear tracks on her cheeks.

“Ginny, we are glad for your…”

“Save it, Albus. This is no time for words not related to the task at hand. I know what caused this blizzard.” She paused, seeming to shrink in on herself for a moment before standing tall once again. “I know who to blame.”

Silence reigned, as the whole remaining assembly of gods and goddesses waited with bated breath.

* * *

_Where am I?_

She was aware that she was lying down, and there was a sound like voices that she could distantly make out. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could hear traits about them. One was deep and soft, but it was angry and growling. Another was clipped and precise, also angry but even. There were others, but her mind could barely make them out in the haze it was in. She felt as though she was slowly being pulled in many directions away from her center, and she began pulling back into herself. The pain began to lessen, but her mind was still hazy. The angry voice she heard before was absent now, having been replaced by other voices she still could not make out. As her mind struggled to regain its unparalleled prowess, she felt something settle beside her.

She was made dimly aware that she now lay in a bed, and the thing beside her was a being like her. A warmth radiated from this being, and she could not help but succumb to the sensation. A warm weight covered her hand. Her mind was slowly coming awake, but she still could not open her eyes or bring her body to move. The voices came more into focus now, and she could just begin to garner small words and phrases. None of which made any sense.

"...she be..."

“...strong presence...”

"...this mess..."

“...understandable...”

“...forgive you, but...”

“...only a matter...”

The words and phrases swirled in her mind. What did it all mean? What had happened? Where was she? Beside her, the warm being with the hand covering her own spoke in a soft, firm voice the first full sentence she could understand.

“Make no mistake, this winter will pass, and spring will come again. But I don’t want her to be like this again.”

Harry. Her heart fluttered at the tenderness in his voice, but her body remained still as it tried to draw in the power she had expended. Her mind began to work. The immediate past coming to her mind. 

* * *

_She strained at the force with which the winds were blowing. This was the mightiest storm she had ever had to hold back in her time as the stand in for Ginny. Frost was forming and melting in rapid succession all around her as she battled the blizzard. She felt her power give and the cold creep into her. No, she would not let this storm do her in. She had to keep it at bay. She heaved within herself and pushed back. The cold left her, and she fought against the deep ache within her. Her mind called up an image of Harry, and the ache eased ever so slightly._

_The storm thrashed back at her and regained some of its ground. She ground her teeth and pushed from deeper within herself than she thought she could. Push and shove, gain and lose, back and forth, one goddess stood against the storm that guaranteed only cold winds, thick snow, and a slow freezing of the world. Focusing all the power she could muster against the storm, she felt something different in this force opposed to her. Something familiar. The crackle of magic in the air..._

_No..._

_The storm swelled in power faster than she could counteract it. Closer and closer, the frost crept forward. Deeper and deeper, the cold seeped into her bones. More and more, she grew afraid. Not just for the mortals who were sure to suffer for her failure, but also for her own safety._

_No, she would not fail them. No, she was losing this battle. No, her power was caving..._

_All at once, she felt the power she had been pushing outward vanish. Wind picked her up from the ground and hurled her back through the air as the cold sunk into her very being with the searing pain of hot knives. Stones and trees shattered as her back crashed into them. Cold rain stung her cheeks as she hit the ground. Sleet and hail pummeled her form while she rolled from the impact. Snow sunk its tiny, freezing blades slowly into her skin as she finally slid to a stop on her side, making her cry out in anguish. She tried to stand, but she couldn't. Her legs would not obey her commands. Her arms trembled as she tried to raise her self up. She raised her head and saw a figure forming from the haze of the blizzard. Two points of pale light shone in fury at having been finally denied on the cusp of victory._

_So, this was his plan all along. Well, at least her paranoia had paid off._

_Draco came into focus, a scowling sneer on display for all to see. His wand was gripped in a tight fist, glowing from the power he was pouring into the storm. Rage burned in his eyes, but soon cooled as his eyes clouded over in lust. Hermione began to weep as the truth of what was about to happen to her was made known. She would not be his queen, but he would have her until the end, which was very near got her. His icy fingers were colder than the storm around them as they softly coiled around her throat. She felt herself being lifted up…_

_A warmth like fire swallowed the cold, and a voice that was usually so kind and soft overpowered the storm with a fearsome roar._

_“DRACO!”_

* * *

Harry watched as her eyes began to twitch and her breathing grew stronger. Albus, Minerva, Pomfrey, Ginny, and Lavender continued to speak in hushed voices, but Harry had long since tuned them out after making it clear that he would not let her continue in this way. His heart tightened painfully in his chest as he recalled the image of Draco with his fingers around her throat. He felt a new rage fill him that would have had him returning to where his corpse lay buried were it not for the stirring goddess before him. The warmth beneath his hand twitched and flex, and Harry sighed as the movement relaxed his tense muscles and soothed his aching heart. He flexed his own fingers and gripped Hermione's hand in his own.

Her eyes fluttered open to fill with a soft, golden glow, much like the candle beside her bed. They were drawn to his own eyes that were shimmering with a sunlight filtered behind a canopy of leaves. A smile crept upon her lips, one that he returned in equal measure.

"Hi," she whispered hoarsely.

"Hi," he whispered back, believing his own voice to crack at anything above a whisper. "Are you okay?"

"I am," she sighed softly, holding his gaze. "Thank you for saving me."

"Always." The word felt charged as it left his lips, leaving a tingling upon them. Almost as though she could see the sparks he felt on them, Hermione's eyes darted to his lips then back to his eyes. He felt his breath hitch at the look those soft lights held within. It matched what he saw as he'd looked in the mirror while thinking of her. Slowly, Harry rose to sit on the edge of the bed. Hermione began to lean up with slowly renewing strength. The two deities paused just before they met in the middle. Two sentences needed to be said.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Harry."

A wonderful sensation filled them as their lips met in a deep kiss. Harry breathed deeply from the release of finally being able to kiss her like he had for the longest time. He cupped her cheek and felt her hands furl around his neck, her slender fingers threading through his hair. He heard and felt her sigh into his mouth and sucked the sound into his lungs, wanting to keep that holy air all to himself. His lips tingled as they slid across her own in a dance neither had practiced, yet both knew. Push and pull, they continued this kiss that was the culmination of months of longing. Harry and Hermione only had one thought in their minds.

_Finally_

* * *

"I'm telling you, Albus. No one's been able to find Draco. It's almost as though he's vanished from the cosmos," Minerva snipped, her brow scrunched in deep concern. Lavender watched as the god stroked his white beard, blue eyes shimmering in thought. Ginny still had her head bowed, as she had since revealing the truth to the assembly of deities shortly after the First Blizzard had rocked the world. Though many had made it explicitly clear that they had forgiven her for the part she had felt forced to play, it would still be ages before she would forgive herself. And then there was Harry and Hermione. Ginny had been almost certain that neither of them would want anything to do with her after Hermione woke up.

Lavender liked to think that she knew Hermione to be better than that, and Harry had never seemed like the sort to give unjust punishments. 

"We will have to wait until the winter has passed before we continue our search," the Head of the Gods concluded. "In the meantime, we must consider what this new development will do the world, now that it seems to be a permanent fixture."

"Harvests will need to be planned ahead," Ginny said meekly, but continued on. "Many crops will not grow past a certain temperature. Food will need to be stored in such a way that it will keep throughout the winter. Fire has become much more necessary, and trees will need to be felled to feed those flames. Winter will eat at man, and man will be forced to burn their own forests to last until spring, when my powers return. Oh, what have I done!?" Ginny wept. 

Lavender's heart broke for the poor goddess. Without a second thought or pause, she swept the girl into her arms and stroked the weeping deity's shining red hair. Murmuring soothing comforts to ease Ginny's distress, Lavender opened her eyes and spied the screen that separated Harry and Hermione from the rest of them. The candlelight from Hermione's bedside cast flickering shadows on the soft cloth. In those shadows, Lavender saw Harry get up and lower himself onto Hermione's bed. She saw as Hermione sat up. She saw as the dark outlines of their faces melded into one indistinguishable mass. A soft smile spread across her face at the sight.

At least one good thing was found in the storm.

* * *

True to Harry's word, winter did pass, and spring did return to the world. When the snows melted away from the northern edge of the world, they revealed a landscape marred with black scores in the stone and earth. Marks where a fiery blade had arced its energy toward a foe. More of this landscape was pock-marked with craters where the foe had retaliated with volley after volley of energy and malice. The once-frozen ground would forever remember the mighty clash that happened upon it.

One had been a being of bright goodness, fierce love, and solemn duty, who had finally unleashed a storm of fire and lightning the likes of which was once strong enough to rend a soul-turned-demon to naught but ash. The other had once been like the first, but unfettered lust and an insatiable desire for power had twisted and corrupted it, making it into a fell blight upon the cosmos that had birthed it. The loving being had come from a place more real than the soil it stood upon, where moral actions made in a fleeting moment where a testament of eternity thereafter. The blighted being had come from a place shining with light and energy that could be formed and commanded at its beck and call.

Blade had sung, wand had waved, and the ground had shaken beneath the feet of these titanic forces. The sword in the hand of the lover had struck sure and true. The wand wielded by the blight had cast with precision and practice. As the summoned tempest raged around them, the powers had clashed to decide the fate of not only the world, but of another their equal.

Ultimately, the lover had been the mightier power.

His blade had pierced into the unloving heart of the deceitful bane, splitting holy flesh from divine bone, tearing uncreated nerve from manifested sinew. With righteous anger and anguished love, the wielder had roared his fury, forcefully shoving his mighty weapon further through the corrupted one and pinned the blade into the ground. The defeated evil had watched in horror as his wand had been taken up in his foe’s hands and, with a storm of eerie, green fire in the eyes of his foe, was snapped in two.

With the object of his power shattered, the deposed god-king’s brief look of sorrow was overcome with anguish and pain and fire flared from the blade impaled in his chest. The lover had surged his power through the weapon, and divine fleshed sizzled and popped. But the punishment was far from over. For creating the curse that would forever plague this world, the lover had called down lightning to surge through the indestructible metal. It arced and crackled across the evil one’s skin, blackening it as he convulsed from the power. The ground beneath him glowed red hot from the heat and electricity before caving as it melted to molten sludge.

Divinity is very hard to kill, but another divine power can do it with enough power. As the fallen god sank beneath the magma, he felt his consciousness start to fade away. His scorched and blackened face rose to bore cold, hatefully pale eyes into his killer. The light in them flickering with conceited malice as the charred mouth opened to spit vile words only to be drowned boiling earth. The cold lights flickered to empty nothingness before finally being swallowed beneath the still flowing lava.

There, beneath the hardened stone, his corpse sits. Never to possess the baleful spirit that would never be again. The last of the divine energies being absorbed by the earth and flowering into good things that grow and give life all year round. Forever known to all as a haven to life in the harsh winters. And guarded by the watchful eyes of a flock of phoenixes.

With justice dispensed and weapon sheathed, the lover turned and wandered over to a trough in the earth, where the object of his love lied, her own divinity faint, but safe and able to return and be nurtured back to strength. The heavenly woman groaned in soreness as she was lifted into the arms of who she thought and hoped was the one she loved.

“Harry?” the goddess asked in a whisper, not trusting her muddled senses.

“Shh, Hermione. Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m taking you home,” Harry reassured. Hermione sighed tiredly and nuzzled her frigid face into his warm chest.

“Home.”

That was where she was when she was in his arms.

* * *

Laughter filled the warm hall as ambrosia flowed from cup to mouth. It weaved through the air amid warm firelight. Chuckles thrummed with the musical notes of a lively jig. Giggles shimmered in the air with the dancing pixies. It spun its merry tune in time with the divine forms of gods and goddesses. Oh, the joy and laughter that filled the hall would brighten even the deepest dark. 

At the center of all this radiance spun a feminine divinity that shimmered in her ivory gown. Her brown curls were woven with gold and silver ribbons to create a tapestry of tenderness. Her skin shone like worn pages of old books in the warm glow of candlelight. Candlelight that shone from the depths of her eyes as she twirled in the arms of her beloved. 

Said beloved was wreathed in splendor befitting his station as god-king. A glimmering, silver cloth cut into the finest robes adorned his figure. The flawless, sun-kissed skin of his strong hands intertwined with those of the holy beauty before him. Hair as black as night fell unevenly about his head, yet did nothing to besmirch the righteous glory he radiated. With eyes that glowed like holy leaves from sacred trees, the masculine deity gazed upon the womanly figure of his goddess, who had finally become his queen. Drawn together, they shared another deep kiss in the midst of all their fellow gods and goddesses. Here, surrounded by friends, Harry and Hermione knew nothing but each other and the love they shared. 

Finally united in name, as well as spirit and heart, the two immortals basked in the glow of their union. A glow that made the brilliant sun pale by comparison. Even the thought that this would be their new eternity only brightened that shine. 

After much dancing and jubilation, which served to brighten even the Festival God's sour mood at having been passed over for another, the united duo began bidding their farewells to all their fellow divinities. After an embrace from the Goddess of Love, a clap on the back from the God of Courage, a merciful and tearful hug to the Goddess of Nature and Warmth that offered only forgiveness and friendship, a humorously awkward handshake with a thoroughly drunk Festival God, and a paradoxically cordial and familial farewell to the Head God of Wisdom and High Goddess of Justice, Harry and Hermione alighted into their gift-laden coach and were drawn by winged, skeletal horses up into the night and into the the Everafter, where Hermione would rule by Harry's side as his queen. 

Her library of ever-growing knowledge and lore would soon merge into his study, creating the Hall of Tomes, where it was said that everything could be found on any subject. Secrets and prophecies, lost legends and the truths that birthed them, all could be found amidst the endless shelves. It is also said that somewhere in that pocket-realm lies the Book of Eternity, where the God of the Dead can see all lives that have ever lived and will ever live.

His task as King of the Everafter is made much the easier with his queen by his side. With gentle deliberation and respectful ease, one is always sure to find truest justice tempered by gracious mercy given unto them by the monarchs of an eternal throne. And when peace permits, the two immortal figures vacate their thrones to relish in their love, ravish each other with their passion, and bask in the glow of their unity.

* * *

_And together, they rule and live happily in the Everafter._

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that took far longer than I had intended, but I can't say i regret a word I typed. This work was inspired by a bi-weekly Wacky Wednesday AU prompt from the H.M.S Harmony discord server. 
> 
> Seriously, I love the people there. They are a wonderful collections of prolific writers, stunning artists, and ardent shippers. I am forever grateful for the welcome they have given me and how encouraging they are. I have never felt so inspired to create and ship than I have with these wonderful people. If any of my readers wish to join and bask in everything Harmony related, go there.


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